There I was, in the restaurant carpark, waiting for my customer to finish dinner when an SUV sandwich arrived - four Suburbans between two cop cruisers. There was no squealing of tires or blaring of sirens, but it was clear that Something Important was happening. "Huh", I thought, Sarasota's biggest moment in three months might just be happening before my eyes.
Out sprung a dozen or more steely-type guys in dark suits, all looking at what security people call "The Perimeter." (Note my hip lingo.) I was on the dead side of The Perimeter, unable to see what was happening at the restaurant's entrance. Apparently Someone Important alighted one of the monster vehicles and was escorted in with a few hangers-on. All I saw was the back of a guy's head, a guy with white hair.
Frankly, I was miffed. Here was I, sitting in my Town Car in the forecourt, chatting on my cellphone, and the tuff guys barely gave me a look. I could have been a nut with a gun on a mission, deserving of a bit o' roughing up. Actually, the fact they ignored me is testimony to their judgement, because A) I'm not a starfucker, and B) my friend on the phone was way more interesting than some B-lister with over-the-top stalker protection.
After a while, I told my friend what had happened. She speculated who was likely to have a police escort and heavy duty security. We concluded it was unlikely to be anyone Hollywood, nor anyone businessy. I thought of Bill Gates, but I know he's very low-key. My best guess was Governor Crist.
Eventually, I got out of the car to stretch a take a walk. A television camera crew and their cub reporter argued over sightlines. Bottled water came out for the suits. Restaurant customers (including mine) were nowhere to be seen, apparently held hostage inside. Good for me; I was on hourly pay. A local cop stood nearby, so I asked the question. Suddenly it all made sense.
My clues to my friend on the phone were as follows: The number 42. Ladies' knickers hitting the floor all over the SunCoast. Politician. White hair. Left of center. Unsure of the meaning of the word 'is'.
5 comments:
"Ladies' knickers" - now that is a hint! Tells something about the teller as well. I would have thought most people would say panties. Or is that too low class?
BTW, I don't think he knows the meaning of the verb 'to have sex' either.
be glad you weren't questioned or even looked at directly, sugar! good ole bill still gets around, doesn't he? xoxox
I thought there was some distinguishing mark about his undercarriage, wasn't there Nitebyrd? Something only someone as close as Gennifer Flowers or Monica would know about?
Anyway, I see your point (ha ha) about his nose. True enough.
Ha ha, Don. You're right, he had a little difficulty with defining sex, and now schoolchildren can all say "No, I didn't have sex" with impunity.
Panties v knickers. There's a matter for fulsome debate some time. I don't really mind, the sound of either one hitting the floor is a clarion call.
*smile*
He sure does, Sugar. My customer actually did shake his hand and have a few words with Mr Ex President in the restaurant. He said he could see why all those panties where being lowered...."Charming as an Indian with a snake and a flute" was his actual quote. Whatever that means. ;-)
I hate to admit it, but i always had a bit of a soft spot for him.
That's a coincidence, Enigma, coz he had a hard spot for you, dear.
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